DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.62360#0061
LIFE IN MANTUA 37
Francesco had been banished by the Marquis, and
not all his father’s prayers procured his pardon.
Isabella herself interceded, touched by his sorrow.
He had come to implore her aid, she wrote to her
husband in a letter dated April 1st, 1505, “all weeping
and agitated, and so fallen away in face that he seemed
more dead than alive,” and she pleaded for the recall
of the banished son, “ gravely as he has sinned, for the
sake of the long service, the incomparable ability and
high merits of the father.” It must have been a grave
offence, indeed, for we know that this appeal was vain,
and that the following year he was still forbidden to
enter the gates of Mantua.
But not all the cares of debt and disappointment
robbed Mantegna of his energy. The genius in him
was as vigorous and virile as ever, and there is no
trace in his last works of depression of spirit or of
failing power. He was engaged in the very last
months of his life on a large painting of Comus for the
Marchioness. This work, described by her secretary in
a letter of July 15th, 1506, and not then finished, is
unfortunately lost, but three paintings are preserved,
which, found in the studio after his death, date almost
certainly from his last years, the A. Sebastian, belong-
ing to Baron Franchetti of Venice, The Dead Christ
of the Brera, and the Scipio of our own gallery. The
latter is probably the last work from his hand, yet
the figures are modelled with as firm a strength, as
statuesque a beauty, as ever. It is a noble picture with
which to close the record of his labours.
Life and work were drawing to an end, and the
history of the last months is a sad one. In urgent
Francesco had been banished by the Marquis, and
not all his father’s prayers procured his pardon.
Isabella herself interceded, touched by his sorrow.
He had come to implore her aid, she wrote to her
husband in a letter dated April 1st, 1505, “all weeping
and agitated, and so fallen away in face that he seemed
more dead than alive,” and she pleaded for the recall
of the banished son, “ gravely as he has sinned, for the
sake of the long service, the incomparable ability and
high merits of the father.” It must have been a grave
offence, indeed, for we know that this appeal was vain,
and that the following year he was still forbidden to
enter the gates of Mantua.
But not all the cares of debt and disappointment
robbed Mantegna of his energy. The genius in him
was as vigorous and virile as ever, and there is no
trace in his last works of depression of spirit or of
failing power. He was engaged in the very last
months of his life on a large painting of Comus for the
Marchioness. This work, described by her secretary in
a letter of July 15th, 1506, and not then finished, is
unfortunately lost, but three paintings are preserved,
which, found in the studio after his death, date almost
certainly from his last years, the A. Sebastian, belong-
ing to Baron Franchetti of Venice, The Dead Christ
of the Brera, and the Scipio of our own gallery. The
latter is probably the last work from his hand, yet
the figures are modelled with as firm a strength, as
statuesque a beauty, as ever. It is a noble picture with
which to close the record of his labours.
Life and work were drawing to an end, and the
history of the last months is a sad one. In urgent